Fated
by EuterpeDesu
Summary: PJO AU: "I wouldn't do that if I were you." Annabeth was numb. Fear, fatigue, resignation – God only knew why. It made the rain seem like an autumn's day drizzle. Although her jacket was thick, she could tell that the weapon was deadly. Well-sharpened like the deep, low voice behind her. She slowly raised her hands in surrender. Rated T for curse words. Credits to the cover image.
1. PROLOGUE

He sat up on a makeshift bed. _Sweating_.

_That dream again._ He thought to himself as he ran shaky fingers through his hair. He observed his surroundings. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose trying block out the impending headache.

_Please. Stop. My son's in the hospital._

He bit back a curse. _This is insane_. He thought. He stood up letting the sheets fall to the floor. His half naked body was barely visible, with only the light of the moon entering through a small opening in the wall. He went to the little table sitting on the corner and got a glass of water. He gulped the glass' contents, relishing the cool feel of the water to his throat. After the glass was empty he walked back to his makeshift bed, where a mirror hung on the wall right next to it. He stared at his reflection. Dull and lifeless sea green eyes stared back at him. He laughed bitterly, the sound hurting his throat.

_I was born to be like this, right?_

He plopped down his bed and put his arm over his eyes. He tried to sleep.

But maybe Sleep doesn't pity him too.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Annabeth Chase was a beauty. Well, she was if she wasn't in front of her laptop, stress evident on her face and clearly out of ideas as she was just clicking on the space button, over and over again. It might be days since she last faced a mirror. At the morning, she wake up, take a bath and dress up without looking at the mirror. She even tend to forget to take her breakfast. Her desk full of papers, scattered. Her gray eyes staring intently at the screen.

She read through the passage she wrote. Oh gods, Piper would flip if she heard about how she's skipping breakfast for almost three days. Why was she assigned on this article anyways? How her life sucks. She took up a double major at architecture and journalism and at 20, she graduated as valedictorian of their batch. How she does it? She trust in her genes. Her mom, Athena Chase, graduated college at 15 and now is well-known Women's Rights Advocate.

She groaned and took a little glance at the digital clock on her laptop.

_4:12 AM_

Only two hours left until work. How would Rachel react if she pass on a one paragraph article? She prayed the gods she would be filled with knowledge about this thief. But, how would that be possible? Even the LAPD don't have enough knowledge about this man to put up a wanted poster. She sighed again. And tried to type whatever words she sees fit but her mind betrayed her and puts her into a deep sleep.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Piper Mclean stood outside her bestfriend's door for four hours. How could this happen? Annabeth was never late for work. Their work at the international newspaper, Hermes' Bulletin, was the most tiring but, Annabeth seemed to love the work. The girl was too stubborn to accept the offer of the biggest architect company in Los Angeles. She said she want to land a job on her own, not under the shadows of her mother, who was, by golly, a _very _genius woman.

She banged on the door of the apartment again.

_No answer, huh?_

She was never a fan of waiting so with all her might, she kicked to door open. _Huh, that was easy._

She went inside and saw her bestfriend's passed out form on her desk, a word document left unfinished. Piper felt pity for the blonde haired girl. She was unfortunate to have been given this task. She blamed Rachel for that. Yeah, the girl might be the next Helen Thomas but heck, this story was an exception! Even her boyfriend, an investigator at LAPD, can't seem to know the whereabouts of this missing heir and by the looks of Annabeth, she can't find any leads either. She debated whether to wake her up or to let her sleep.

She decided on the former.

"Hey, Annabeth." She whispered as she tapped her shoulder slightly.

Annabeth moved and groaned and mutter '5 seconds' and never opened her eyes. Piper knew Annabeth's tired (She felt tired too) but their job's on the line and their bills and their lives. So she shook Annabeth.

"W-what?!" Annabeth wide awake now, said.

"Uhhh…. Pipes, is this a dream or you're really inside my apartment." Annabeth said, confused as she stood up and shut down her laptop.

"This is not a dream and yes, I'm in your apartment and I'm sorry I kicked your door." Piper said as she dusted her dress.

""That's ok- Wait. WHAT!?" Annabeth stared wide eyed at the door. _It's blown off at it's hinges!_

"And, did you save your work? 'Cause you just shut down your laptop." Piper pointed.

"OH NO! Oh no. No, no, no, no, no!" Annabeth hurriedly turned on her laptop only to find her work unsaved. She facepalmed and pinched the bridges of her nose.

"Ummm…I hate to break it to you, but, could you get the bath going? 'Cause it's already quarter to eleven." Piper said as she went on a beanbag and sat down. _This is nice! I should probably buy one. _She thought. Annabeth glanced at her wall clock.

She muttered a curse and hurriedly went to the bathroom. She then stripped naked and went in the shower, cursing when she forgot to turn on the heat.

"Well," Piper shouted to Annabeth, "this is the first time I've seen you act so…_un-_Annabeth!" Piper chuckled.

"Shut up! And what's that even supposed to mean!" Annabeth shouted back.

Well, this isn't her lucky day. Or is it?

ooooooooooooooooo

**A/N: So, this is my shot at long stories. **** . I just wanted to thank. Rosekie for the idea. Oh, sorry for the grammatical error it's kinda short and I'm sorry for that. It's just the prologue, anyways. Reviews and constructive criticism is appreciated. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Percy Jackson series. Just the story plot though.**


	2. Where it Begins

Her fingers were tired, her eyes having dark circles underneath them losing her usual glow. She hadn't been able to get a visit from sleep since the past week and she was damn tired. She suddenly had the urge to puke since her body had been running on too much caffeine and a couple of bread she had half day ago.

But hell, she needed this article, she needed this promotion. Herr whole life is on the line. The rent was due in two weeks, her bills was piling up and the car needed tuning up _again_.

_You could just give a call to your mother, she can – _No. Most definitely she won't depend on her mother and her money. She _is _capable of living.

_Shit. Stop it. _She ran a shaky hand through her curly, golden blonde hair. _Just concentrate, Annabeth. This is your line of thinking. This is your territory. Just a few more paragraphs and the promotion is in your hands._

She inhaled in vain attempt it would fill her brain with word to type and seemingly kept on pressing the space bar key again and again. _Shit._ She cursed mentally. It was writer's block. _Damn, such a bad timing! _She blinked back tears of frustration. _Good cry it out. Maybe you could stay awake that way. _But the more she willed herself to cry, the more tears didn't come.

_Damn that sleep then,_ if she won't finish this she won't have a home to sleep in. _Except mother – no! Annabeth we're done with that matter._

Out of habit she glanced at her bedside table, the clock blinking out the red numbers telling the time. 3:58 A.M. Just few more hours and she's off to work.

She let out a defeated sigh and began reading her work.

HEIR, MISSING WITHOUT A TRACE

By Annabeth Chase

_ Poseidon Jackson (age 57), CEO of a world-renowned shipping line company based in Washington, has recently ordered an all-out, world-wide search for his son, __Perseus Jackson (age 25), who was reported missing one month prior._

_The young heir was confirmed to be last seen at the Jackson's Reunion Party in California before mysteriously disappearing after the said occasion. No witnesses __have come up, although his black Civic Sedan was seen along the bank of a nearby creek about 10 miles away from the 101 freeway. LAPD has taken in the vehicle for a complete and thorough investigation._

_ "I and this whole family will not rest until we find or find out what has happened to our only heir," Mr. Jackson stated during a press conference held in Los Angeles yesterday. "We don't care how much or how long it takes," he added._

_ The last person the "Hero" was said to be with was his close cousin Thalia Grace (age 32), who has been staying with his family for the past years..._

Annabeth bit the eraser of her pencil, a habit she got whenever she's frustrated. _Damn! There's nothing to write and I need his picture. _Being irritated was an understatement. _He's the heir to a world-known company! Why can't I find a single decent picture! People like him are the center of attention. What kind of rich and famous, young guy would avoid a camera? _she mentally cursed the internet for not having a picture of him facing the camera. Even a source of who the guy was. She felt betrayed. _Just when I needed something, thanks Internet, _she thought sarcastically.

_I'll just ask Reyna to look for any picture of him,_ Annabeth thought hopelessly. Her finger glided fast on her keyboard. The mechanical sound it produces make a vein twitch on her forehead. Her gray eyes lighted with newfound determination.

_Fine, _she thought, _whatever this is, I have to finish it, or I could just kiss the Editor-in-Chief spot goodbye._

She sighed again and began typing whatever words she could formulate in her brilliant mind, which for the meantime is completely drained.

* * *

"Give me your purse, _now."_

The woman was trembling. Silently praying to the gods to spare her life. She was beyond frightened. He could sense it even in the darkness of early dawn. Silent sobs whacked through her body like an earthquake as she pushed the sharp edge of his pocket knife closer to her neck. It was raining and the damned raindrops stung his skin like poison. _Tsk. It's damn cold. _He thought and he was surprised as he kinda loved the rain. They stood in a dark alleyway, unseen.

"There's no use calling for help." He whispered, his voice low and dangerous. He took a step closer to his victim. "I _really _don't want to hurt you, but, if you don't comply with me, things will become ugly."

She bit back a sob. "P-please. M-my son is in the h-hospital." Her voice cracked. "This i-is the only m-money I have and—"

"I don't give a damn," he said not to loud but enough so she could hear the poison in his voice. He took another step closer, his face hovering inches away from her. He smirked, a dark one. Though, she couldn't have seen it. "You want to see your son again right?" He asked.

Fresh tears slid down her face mixing with raindrops, clutching her purse as if it was her life line. In this case, it was. "Y-yes, please—"

"Then give me your purse so I can let you go in peace." He grabbed the small, leather bag and tried to pry it from her fingers, careful not to let the knife slip away from the hollow of her neck. But she held on to it tighter.

"P-please—"

"Shit," he cursed as he heard the quiet, incoming siren of police on patrol duty. His senses heightened. And his adrenalin rushing through his body like wildfire.

_I don't have any choice_, his thought was stark-blank, blinded by his sudden urge to flee. _I need this more than she does, right?_

He gave one last look on the terrified woman against the brick wall before closing his eyes and landing a right hook on her jaw, instantly knocking her out. He watched with nonchalant eyes as her unconscious body slumped towards the ground, her purse flying out of her grip and into a small puddle. He grabbed it without hesitation.

_She's not dead_, he thought trying to convince himself. He suddenly felt like he was the victim now._ This happens every time I do this._

Slipping the knife carefully into his pocket, he sprinted back into the unlit street. His face and hands felt numb. His mind was on the brink of panic, trying to block out the graveness of what he had just done. _Hell would be a good place for me. I bet they won't stop me from entering there._

The siren got louder as his legs beneath him pumped faster, the soles of his sneakers hitting the wet pavement painfully. His lungs felt like they were breathing in water. _If I would die, which is impossible, I would like to drown._ He thought and laughed hollowly, silently, as his eyes stayed nonchalant.

He rounded another corner and finally disappeared out of sight.

* * *

**A/N: So, how was it? I know, I know it's pretty bad. But please bear with me just a little bit longer. ****. Maybe I'll update soon, if I get the laziness out of my being. Thanks again to Rosekie for giving me the idea to write this story. Oh and by the way, thanks for the kind souls who reviewed and favorited this story. And if this chapter was confusing, the prologue happened a day before this. Sorry if there were holes or grammatical errors or details wronged, but hey, it's the best I could do. (Oh I just found out how to put a horizontal line thingie on my story! Yey for me!)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Percy Jackson and the Olympians. They rightfully belong to Uncle Rick.**

**See you in the next chapter! Peace out, Demis!**


	3. The Call

**A/N: Soooo sorry for this late update. Well, here goes my best shot at this chapter. Also, don't forget to review, I would gladly like to hear from you guys. Read on!**

* * *

"What do you mean 'You couldn't find a picture'?" Reyna Ramirez-Arellano raised an eyebrow at the young columnist in front of her cluttered desk, as if refusing to believe it. "In case you don't know, you could've _Google_d that, Annabeth," she added with a shard of tired frustration. There were dark, half-circles under her light brown eyes and her black hair was in messy clumps on her head. _I know that, duh. _Annabeth thought. She steeled her gaze, refusing to back down "I'm sorry, Reyna," she apologized, noticing the hint of slight anger in her boss' tone. "I was up all night looking for a decent one, but all I got were of him with his back to the camera, his hand covering his face—obviously, he's doesn't like pictures very much—"

"That doesn't matter, Annabeth." Reyna shot back, standing up from her seat. She rested her palms on her desk and surveyed her office as if debating something in her mind. Letting out a sigh, she then gazed at Annabeth with pure and genuine concern, which was unusual of her. "I know you want this position, Miss Chase. And frankly, I don't see a problem with that since you're the best writer I've got."

Beaming a little, Annabeth tried to look humbled. "Thank you, Miss Arellano." But deep down, she doesn't like where this conversation is heading, she's not dumb.

"But if you don't show me a little more determination, I might consider giving this newspaper and all its hard work to someone else."

Annabeth's stomach dropped a couple of notches. A lump was forming in her throat. Trying to suppress her helplessness. Annabeth could only knit her brows. _No_, she thought helplessly, gripping the hems of her fleece jacket for any support. _I can't lose this. I'm this close_—

"But I don't think we'd like that, would we?" she asked, serious.

Something inside her lit up, sending her hopes flying again. "No, Miss Arellano," she replied a little bit faster than she expected.

The older woman grinned. "I like your spirit, Miss Chase," she said, sitting down behind her desk. There was an authoritarian ring to her voice now. It could've made someone shiver, but Annabeth was an exception. "That's why I'm giving you another chance."

Annabeth's eyes widened with surprised but it flushed out of her in an instant as she composed herself. "Thank you, Miss Arellano," she said with pride and honor. "I swear you won't regret this," she added, standing up and smiling proudly. "I'll get on with looking for that picture right away."

Reyna chuckled softly. "Actually, there's no need," she said.

"What?"

"I already asked Piper McLean to fill you in," she replied calmly. "That missing-heir story is old, and I want you to work on a fresh story."

Face brightening with determination, Annabeth swallowed. "And what story is that?" she asked with a mixture of anxiety and excitement. _This is a challenge, and I never back down on one._

"I hope you've heard of the mugging incidents downtown," Reyna asked Annabeth as if testing if her knowledge of recent events was editor-in-chief material. She stood up again and walked towards Annabeth, putting an arm around her shoulders.

It ringed a bell. "Yeah, I've heard of it," she replied without uncertainty. It was a crucial mistake to show that now. "I think everyone has," she said.

Reyna beamed, which was another unusual thing. "Good," she said, pleased. "I want you to get the scoop on everything regarding that bastard. Interview victims if possible or witnesses if there are any."

Confused, Annabeth grasped her mind for something to say. "Me?" she asked, her brows knitted across her forehead. "Why, me?" she repeated.

"Because this is a hand-in-hand case with the Police, that's why," she replied sternly. "You do know that Leo Valdez works for the cops, and I believe you know him."

Annabeth was amazed that the editor knew this much. _Yeah, Leo, I remember him_. "Yeah, we went to the same high school together," she confirmed, glancing at Reyna.

"Well, then," she said in a tone that indicated that their conversation was closed. "It's settled. Leave the missing-heir story to Piper, she can handle that. You'll start working on this one. Got it?" she asked, though she knew that Annabeth couldn't afford to refuse.

The younger woman spread her lips into a proud smile. "Yes, ma'am," she replied. "I'll get started on it right away." She gave Reyna one last look before pacing towards the door.

"Oh, and Annabeth," she called just as she was about to disappear into the busy cubicle-rooms.

Annabeth turned around. "Yes?"

"I'm counting on you. You've got three days."

"Yes, ma'am."

* * *

Piper was her usually, lively self that morning, Annabeth had mentally noted. She was buzzing around, bossing her subordinates as if there was no tomorrow. Her high, feminine voice was reverberating across the room and out into the open hallways. A few people had veins throbbing on their foreheads already, and it was just barely noon. The real nitty-gritty stuff hasn't even begun yet.

"Hey, Travis! What the hell are you _doing_?" she yelled at the man working in number 54. "I told you, the 'in' papers go in this shelf while the 'out' ones go here! You're doing it all wrong!"

Annabeth spared a couple of seconds to look away from her computer screen towards the brown hair of Piper's protruding on top of a cubicle wall. There was an abrupt burst of paper in the air.

"That's it, I quit!" Travis yelled, causing much distraction and amusement to his fellow workers. "I can't take this anymore!" he yelled again as he stomped outside his stall, carrying a cardboard box apparently containing all his important belongings. He had planned this beforehand.

Piper looked outraged as she pointed a threatening finger at the man leaving the office. "And where do you think you're going?" she demanded, following Travis. "Don't think that you can come running back here if you can't find another decent job!"

"Don't worry, I won't!" he yelled back. There were snickers of laughter quietly spreading across the room. A small woman at the back was holding up a banner that said '_Go, Travis!_'

Shaking her head, Annabeth focused her eyes and mind back to her work. Her brows furrowed against the light radiating from her screen, her eyes quickly skimming the page she had come across in their very own newspaper's website.

_One of our regular contributors was a victim of this guy_, she concluded, scribbling the name on a Post-It. _Good. I've got second-hand information_—

"Hey, Annabeth." a familiar voice broke her train of thoughts, making her jerk a little.

Annabeth rolled her eyes. "Damn it, Piper, I was on a roll here!" she said with slight agitation. _What could've triggered Pipes to be angry today? I mean she isn't really always angry. She's so kind!_ Annabeth thought.

She grinned. "I heard you've been assigned to a new issue," Piper said, looking eager.

"Yeah, I was," Annabeth said while sticking her pencil behind her ear. She then began tying her hair in a messy ponytail.

"So..." Piper began, obviously interested. "How's it going? Got any leads? I could let Jason help." she asked, edging a little closer to Annabeth's monitor.

"No. I've just started working on it today," she replied defensively. "I'm not the LAPD here, and not now, he's busy with the 'Missing Heir' issue." she added, eyeing her desk littered with paperwork. "Hey, Pipes?"

"Yeah?"

"I was wondering if you knew this girl," she asked Piper, turning the flat-screen monitor slightly to the left so that it faced the other woman.

Taking a step closer, Piper put a finger to her chin thoughtfully. She scowled a little. "Hazel Levesque... Hmm..." she said, straightening up. "Yeah, I know her. She was a contributor to the Sports department."

Annabeth frowned. "What do you mean 'was'?" she asked.

Shrugging, Piper replied, "She just filed her resignation papers this morning," she said sadly. "I think her son died last night or something. Why'd you ask?"

"Apparently, she was the mugger's most recent victim," Piper said, adjusting the monitor towards her again. "Do you know how I can get a hold of her? Maybe just do an interview?" she asked the head copyreader.

Piper's brows crumpled a little more. "I don't think that'll be easy," she answered slowly, as though uncertain. "She just moved back to Argentina with her husband. Apparently, she couldn't stand living here anymore since it reminded her of her son."

_Shit_, Annabeth thought, chewing the eraser end of her pencil. _This guy's an asshole._ She cursed again.

A soft, female voice on the P.A. spoke. "Miss Piper McLean, please proceed to the third floor. The Editor-in-Chief would like to have a word with you." The announced repeated the message twice before the room fell silent again. There was a quiet murmur arousing from the cubicles. A few heads poked out to get a better view of Piper.

"Tch." Giving Annabeth a last look, Piper gracefully exited the large office room, her hair swinging behind her head.

Annabeth's lips pressed into a small, hidden smile. _You still haven't changed a bit, Piper._

* * *

It was around nine o'clock in the evening when rain began pouring again. The streets were still busy with passersby and small, lit-up restaurants like it always was in drier nights. Annabeth Chase stepped out of the taxi and went up the concrete steps of the number 2376 precinct.

The building looked classic, like it was taken out of a Hollywood movie. _The architecture is awesome on this one. _Annabeth thought with a hint of awe under the rain. The yellow glow from the lamp post reflecting on its façade. She wondered why she didn't notice this building before.

Annabeth wrapped her leather jacket tighter around her body. It was her first time to enter a precinct, or was it? The weather wasn't helping at all with easing the tension she felt. _Leo, please be here,_ she prayed as she disappeared into the wooden double doors.

The air was considerably warmer when she was finally inside. It felt good and smelled of coffee and freshly baked donuts. _I guess Hollywood got that detail right_, Annabeth told herself, watching the navy blue-clad men walking past her giving her a critical look. A couple of female officers were staring at her, chattering away behind their hands.

Feeling irritated, Annabeth placed her freezing hands in her pockets and lowered her head a little. _Damn it, don't look at me!_

"Annabeth!"

She whirled around to find Leo Valdez' face with a mischievous grin on his lips. "Oh, good, Leo, you're here," she said, suspiciously eyeing the black police baton in his hand. "How're you?"

"I AM GREAT!" he yelled on top of his voice. Several officers rolled their eyes. A criminal-looking man in handcuffs scoffed. Leo raised his fist into the air.

She forced a smile. "Leo—"

"I'll take that," a man behind the energetic cop said. His voice was without a doubt very familiar. He smoothly plucked the baton out of Leo's hand, making his oomph ebb away considerably.

Annabeth recognized him immediately. "Jason."

"Annabeth," Jason said. "How's Piper?"

"She's good. _More than usual."_ _She just busted my door._ She thought.

Leo chuckled, clearly embarrassed, scratching the back of his head. The tense line on his face disappeared completely. "I'm sorry about that," he apologized, blushing. "What's it that you came all the way here for Annabeth?"

The detective pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "I believe you came for an inside look on the mugger," he assumed, gazing at Annabeth inquiringly.

Nodding, Annabeth replied, "Yeah, I did." She was impressed, the guy still hasn't loose his edge. _That's so like Jason Grace to know everything beforehand_. "I need first-class information on everything you guys here know. It's kind of an order," she said, gray eyes eyeing the two.

Leo scratched his head again before looking away. "To tell you honestly," he began, "we only know this so-called mugger as much you guys at the press do," he said truthfully.

"What?" Annabeth raised an eyebrow.

Jason cleared out his throat and took out his ever-so-famous notebook. He flipped to a certain page. "Actually, this is the only worthy information we have," he said as he gestured Annabeth to take out a pen and notebook as well.

She complied with a nod, pausing the tip of her pen on a page. "Right, I'm ready."

"According to my data, there's a big chance that he will attack when it's dark, specifically after sundown till 3:30 in the morning," he stated with a serious expression, flipping to the next page.

Annabeth was jotting down non-stop. Leo was listening intently to every word. It was kind of strange to see him like this without laughing hysterically afterwards. He was really not a serious person

"All-in-all, there are 14 reported cases at very random points around the city so we can't really tell where he'll show up next," Jason continued. "The victims are always women, within the age bracket of 18 to 29 years old..."

Annabeth nodded, her pen gliding smoothly across the paper.

"...And although there are no killings or sexual harassments involved, he has been reported to have used brute force to get what he wants from his victims," Jason said in a low, clear voice that only the three of them could hear.

"The funny thing is," Leo interjected, making the two look at him intently, "none of the victims were able to give us even a rough description on what he looks like."

"Because… he always strikes at night." Annabeth continued, tapping on her notebook.

Jason gave a nod. _She's good at giving conclusions. Maybe she could be a good detective. _"And there's always a bigger chance that he will strike when it's raining so it's really kind of hard to tell," he said, closing his notebook and slipping it back into his coat. "Even our top cartographer tells us that."

_Like tonight_, Annabeth thought to herself, her anxiety growing at the pit of her stomach.

"It's also been reported that he carries a gun around, probably a 9mm," Leo added, putting a finger to his chin thoughtfully. "So be careful, Annabeth," he said with concern to Annabeth.

The woman smiled at the officer. "Thank you," she said, pocketing her pen and notes. "I was just wondering, Jason—"

Static broke from the receiver clamped onto Leo's belt. A voice spoke, though barely incomprehensible. "C-code Red! We n-need back-up, NOW! I think we've found him! Over!" the voice yelled. Everyone in the precinct paused to listen. A couple poised, getting ready to leave the station.

Leo grabbed his receiver and spoke through it. "Roger! Please state your location! Over!"

Annabeth's heart was beating erratically. She had a bad and, at the same time, glad feeling about this. _This is it, the break I've been waiting for_! she thought.

"Roger! We're sending back up ASAP!" Leo replied, turning to Annabeth. "Annabeth please go home," he said, his hand poising to grab the baton protruding from Jason's pocket.

She felt outraged. She wasn't about to lose this shot at being the Editor-in-Chief, no. "What? I don't think so!" she yelled back amidst the blur of navy blue suit and the sound of ongoing sirens outside. "I need this story—"

"We know, but it's just not safe for a reporter on the scene," Jason tried explaining as calmly as possible. Annabeth could be stubborn at times. "There's a gunfight going on, and your mother won't be able to forgive us if anything happened to you."

Annabeth was on the verge of tears. She blinked it back, thinking of her overprotective mother. _I can't believe I'm letting this go. This is unfair_. "Fine," she replied, composing herself and steeled her gaze. Trying to convince herself that it was 'fine.'

"I'll fill you in if ever we get new info about this guy," Jason said, in an attempt to make the disappointed columnist feel a little better.

"Good, now then, I'll need this..." said Leo, grabbing his black, police baton. Jason's left eye twitch nervously. Well, actually, his glasses did.

Annabeth rolled her eyes, preparing for impact.

"ALL THE LADIES LOVE ME!" Leo grabbed the sleeve of Jason's coat and was outside the double doors in an instant, leaving dust clouds and very bewildered officers behind them.

Letting out a defeated sigh, Annabeth hung her head to look at the floor, as though looking for answers that might be written there. _Fine_, she thought, frustrated. _This will have to wait till tomorrow then. Reyna's going to kill me…_

With that last thought, she stepped out of police station number 2376 and into the heavy rain outside

* * *

"What?!" Annabeth couldn't believe her luck. She thought she should call it anything else other than _luck_.

The old taxi driver took off his cap and ran a wrinkled hand through his gray hair. "My engine broke down," he repeated apologetically as he popped the car door open and stepped out to check the problem.

Annabeth cursed mentally. _First I lose the scoop, and now this?_ she asked the gods, not expecting a reply while she seated at the back and looked out the window glazed with water. This was such a bad neighborhood to have a car break down.

"This might take a while, miss," the old man called to her over the sound of the rain. "It's been like this for the past days now," he said with a smile as he propped the car hood up and started fumbling with whatever was inside it.

She suddenly felt bad for the old man. "It's okay, mister," Annabeth called back, grabbing a couple of tens from her bag and stepping out of the vehicle. The old man was taken aback when she handed her the bills.

His brows furrowed. "You only owe me five bucks so far—" he began.

Annabeth gave him a small, warm smile. "No, it's okay," she said, thrusting the tens into the old man's oiled hands. "Will this be enough for the engine to get fixed?"

The man was shocked. "But how will you get home, miss?" he asked with genuine concern. "I can still drive you—"

"No, it's okay, mister," said Annabeth, pulling the hood of her jacket up to cover her head, her hair bunching up at the back of her neck. "I'll just walk; my place is just a couple of blocks from here, anyway."

Looking at the bills, the man said, "Thank you, miss."

"Don't worry about it," she called back with her back turned away from him. _Miss Charitable-Institution just kicked in again_, she scolded herself, suddenly remembering that she still had to pay the rent next week. Annabeth shrugged mentally. _He needs it more than I do. What the heck. I'll just ask mom to pay my rent_. She sighed defeated. _So much for me being independent._

The street lamps were on, but the entire strip, usually-busy strip of fast food chains, fancy restaurants and people, was empty. Her calculating gray eyes surveying her surroundings. She scolded herself for not bringing an umbrella. Her sweater was soaked with rainwater, her mind soaked with letdown.

"Just forget about it," Annabeth muttered softly to herself, mist bursting from her lips with every shallow breath. She tried shrugging it off as she rounded the next corner towards her street.

But she couldn't suppress the feeling that there was definitely something wrong. It wasn't just because of the taxi's engine break-down.

_Oh gods_, she thought, stopping dead in her tracks. _This is bad_. Annabeth's heart throbbed harder and faster like the rain. _Damn, Jason should've come with me._ She was scared beyond belief, yeah she was a black-belt in taekwondo, but still, she's a girl! Annabeth wanted to run, but she couldn't. _This is a perfect giveaway_. And she had half a mind to turn around and ask the old taxi driver to—

Just then a sharp object was jabbed into her back.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

* * *

**A/N: So, how'd it go? Is it alright. I'm sorry if I made some characters OOC esp Piper. It has to be done. So yeah, It's kinda long actually and I'm sorry for that. Maybe I'll post the next chapter today too so watch out for _something._ And, yeah, I think that sums it up. I would like to hear from you so please review and give me...whatever you want to say. Sorry for grammatical and spelling errors.**

**Annnnnnnd that's a wrap! See you soon, Demis!**

**Disclaimer: I do not OWN Percy Jackson and the Olympians. They rightfully belong to Uncle Rick.**


	4. The Meeting

**A/N: It's so rare of me to write a note at the beginning but this has to be done so, yeah. A very big thanks to Rosekie, her story kinda inspired this story of mine. And this is it! Oh, and I kind of changed it since I missed an important fact. Thanks to you for pointing that out (I somehow can't type your name on, but you know who you are). A big thank you to you! On with the story!**

* * *

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Annabeth was numb. _Fear, fatigue, resignation_ – God only knew why. It made the rain seem like an autumn's day drizzle. The only thing she felt was the knife hovering millimeters from her back. Although her jacket was thick, she could tell that the weapon was deadly. Well-sharpened like the deep, low voice behind her. She slowly raised her hands in surrender.

_According to Jason's report, he only attacked in closed alleyways and roads_, she thought, trying to remember clearly despite the life-and-death situation she was in. _We're out in an open street. The detective must've made a mistake_—

"Turn around." The voice commanded her, plunging the knife a little closer to her body. She heard her leather coat rip.

Annabeth let out a quiet gasp. _This is my mother's gift for my 24th birthday! _She thought_._ She couldn't move. Her whole body was stiff as a board. And even if she could, she knew she would've passed out at the sight of this man. She silently prayed to the heavens.

"_Shit_, I said 'turn around'!" he repeated through gritted teeth. The man was growing impatient by the second.

Annabeth winced a little from the pain of the knife. _Just turn around_, she told herself as evenly as her mind could muster. _From the sound of it, he's not in a very good mood. Just give him what he wants and he can go_—_Wait? I could just— That's it! I hope my acting skills are still top notch._

"Damn it—"

She tried to stifle a wince as she took a small forward so that she could face the man. Her head was lowered, palms still raised, and her heart banging in her head and chest. "Please—just take what you want—" There was a lump in her throat. It made it painful to talk.

The man was careful not to leave any room for Annabeth to escape. But Annabeth already thought of something to escape. His hand holding the pocket knife, never budged as she turned around. He then slowly raised it to her chin. She shivered. The blade was as cold as death.

"Look at me," the man ordered again. His voice suddenly changed in tone.

Annabeth swallowed. _Okay Annabeth, you got this._ He had her at knife's edge. It was just an inch away.

He pressed the side of the blade on the tip of her chin and tilted her face up. Her eyes were hard as steel, her hair sticking to her face in wet clumps, and her lips were pursed trying hard not to tremble. It was a miserable state. His eyesight was this clear-cut even in the darkness. _What a pretty face_, he thought, leering menacingly. _It's too bad_...

Eyes filled with rain, Annabeth gazed at the face of the man in front of her. It was too dark to see. "I have money—if that's what you want," she said, lowering her hands to grab the purse tucked safely inside the pocket of her coat.

He thrust the sharp edge of the blade closer, but not close enough to cut her bare skin. "Don't you dare move." It was a demand not to be refused. "Tell me where it is."

Annabeth swallowed again. She straightened up her back. "Inside my jacket, l-left pocket," the words came spilling out, but she didn't take her eyes off the man as he slowly slipped his free hand into her coat. Annabeth felt her face burn with sudden rage and embarrassment.

As the man's hand was inside her jacket, she studied her surroundings. Swallowing the rage and embarrassment she felt. _A wall, probably 10 feet away, and he has his back turned to it._ Maybe the gods did hear her prayer.

She slowly inched her head to the side. _I need to get this knife out of my neck._ In a little while she felt the absence of the cold object from her skin. _One down._

She felt the man's hand on her again. _Just a little more to the left…a little more._ And he grabbed it. _Yes! _She thought triumphantly. As the man grabbed her purse, she kicked him in the stomach. His hand holding the knife lunged forward and Annabeth missed it by an inch. He stood there with his back against the wall as he composed himself immediately. She pulled out her handkerchief and wrapped it around her hand. _This is the hardest part. Disarming an armed assailant. _She remembered the lessons her mom taught her.

The man lunged himself forward, surprisingly, with his left hand, the one without the knife. She ducked just before his fist collided with her face and grabbed the knife with her wrapped hand. She heard the cloth rip but it didn't reach her skin. She stepped back and eyed the knife, twirling it in her hand. _I got you. _She smile, a small smile of triumph.

Just when she was about to say something, a shard of white lighting swept across the black sky. She felt the knife slip past her fingers as she tried to cover up her ears. _Damn this fear of mine!_

She never was given the chance to cover her ears as she looked straight on the man in front of her. It was fast, but it was enough for Annabeth to get a glimpse on the face of the mugger. Her eyes widened. She felt color drain from her face as they were enveloped in darkness again. _This isn't good_—

The man was aware of what she had seen. He knew he was in trouble. "Shit," he murmured as he picked up Annabeth's purse lying on the wet floor.

_I've got you_, Annabeth thought with determination. She didn't know how she worked up that kind of courage when the knife was still aimed at the hollow of her neck. _Finally, everyone's gonna know the face of an asshole like you_—

The sound of police sirens echoed through the empty streets out of nowhere. It sounded like heaven. Annabeth's spirits lightened. She wanted to scream—

He looked at her intently. He cursed mentally. This would be the first victim who saw him face-to-face. His panic kicked in again, like it always did whenever he heard the sirens he feared more than anything.

"The police are coming—" she said, her sweat mixed with the raindrops falling on her face.

But the man wouldn't leave. He stood there gripping her purse. He was debating something in his mind. Annabeth's senses told her that he wasn't about to leave anytime soon. Or she could just—

Yes! She could just run!

Annabeth pivot turned, which was hard because of the kitten heels she was wearing, and ran. She heard the man mutter a curse under his breath. And she heard footsteps behind her. She willed herself to run. But it was hard. _Damn this heels!_ She tried pull her feet out of the heels and run at the same time, _damn_, _it was hard!_

At long last she felt her feet free from the restriction of her heels and she could almost feel her sense of triumph. But then, hey joy was short lived as she felt two strong grips at her wrists, bringing them together. _Shit!_

The man was careful this time 'round, she noted. _I could just back kick him s_he thought. He brought her smaller frame close to his body, making it impossible for Annabeth to do what she was thinking. _It's like he could read my mind._

Annabeth felt something warm hit her damp neck. _What the—_

His head was buried between the place where her neck meet her shoulders. _I thought he never sexually assault his victims! Jason said so! _She thought as she felt his warm breath on her skin. Annabeth was caught off guard.

It was after a couple of agonizing moments before he spoke. She barely took in the last two words he whispered. A shiver ran down her spine.

"I'm sorry."

There was a flash of painful, unseen light, and everything went black.

* * *

"Hello?" Frank Zhang answered his cell phone hesitantly.

"_Frank_?" the voice on the other line asked. The service in the building was a little off, but he recognized the person instantly. His heart leaped with sudden hope.

It took about a couple of seconds for the man to reply. "_This is Leo_," he said through the static. "_I have some news_."

This made Frank stand up. He held the phone closer to his ear. "Do you have him?" he asked quietly, running a calloused palm across his face in a frustrated manner.

"_That's the thing_," Leo said, a hint of regret seething into his voice. "_I thought we did_," he finished.

Frank felt his heart sink into unfathomable depths for the umpteenth time around. He let an angry sigh escape his lips as he dropped to his seat. His knees gave out. "Damn it," he cursed onto the receiver. Frank didn't care. "Who _is_ this guy, _anyway_? And how come he _gets away_ with it _every time_?" he pressed on.

Leo took another couple of seconds before he answered. He wasn't sure he knew what to say. "_If we knew that, we wouldn't be in this situation, Frank_" he said, trying to comfort the man on the other line. "_I understand what you and your wife are going through, but these kinds of things take time and effort to solve. I've got the best officers and even Jason stopped at working on the missing heir case to help_—"

"_Damn it_, Leo," the enraged man cut him off. He stood up again, walked up a wall and landed a solid punch to it in fury. Pain shot up his arm. "How _long_ have you been onto this bastard? My _son_ is dead. My _wife_ is in a ward—"

"_I know, Frank. We all know and we couldn't feel more sorry and angry about that_," Leo replied patiently. "_But at this point, all you can do is wait_," he added.

A very pregnant pause followed. Both men never made a sound.

Frank let out another sigh, this time of clear resignation. He let his arm fall limply onto his side. "Thank you, Leo," Frank said through the receiver.

"_No problem_," Leo said. "_Just remember that we're always here for you. We'll find out who that mugger is and put him behind bars where he belongs_," he added convincingly, his voice full of grit.

"Thank you," Frank repeated.

"_Try to get some rest. You haven't had any sleep at _all," Leo said. "_That's a policeman's order_." The playfulness in Leo's voice returned.

Frank chuckled softly. "Alright," he said. "Just fill me in on the new leads."

"_I will._"

* * *

"Ow—what… the h—"

Annabeth muttered and tried opening her eyes, but it seemed as though her lids were glued together. She felt the back of her head throbbing in big jolts, like small electric shocks.

_What… happened_? Even her thoughts were slow. Annabeth attempted to recall what she could as she grabbed the soft, warm sheets wrapped around her body. She then found herself wanting to get lost in them. _Hmm… this feels nice_...

Except for the fact that they weren't hers.

With that realization, Annabeth instantly stood up and gasped for air like a drowning victim after CPR. Her gray eyes were blank and wide-open, darting around in sheer confusion around the dim, unknown vicinity. She clutched the bed sheets and drew them closer to her chest.

_Where am I?_ she thought, feeling hot blood pump through her cold veins. Her heart beat faster. _What the hell happened?_

"You're awake," a deep, male voice spoke from a dark corner of the small room.

Annabeth jerked her head towards the direction of the voice. Her vision was still blurred but she could make out a figure pacing towards the makeshift bed she was lying in. She looked up to see a familiar face that made her suck in air.

It all came flooding back to her.

_The night… the rain… the knife… her bag… the man… the flash of lightning…_

_Oh gods_, Annabeth couldn't think of anything else. The same phrase echoed through her head over and over again. That sensation came back along with her memories. Numbness was spreading through her body like wildfire. She wanted to get away, to run—

"Stay away from me—" Annabeth said under her breath, scooting away from the black-haired man who sat at the edge of the bed. "Who're you? Why did you take me here?" she asked him, her eyes clouded with resistance. _Come on Annabeth! Think of a way out! Think like your mother!_

The man continued to stare at her with his penetrating sea-green eyes. Annabeth gave a little shiver. The man was pretty good-looking, yet his gaze was bloodcurdling. "You ask a lot," he said plainly. It wasn't meant as a joke.

Annabeth was taken aback, her brows knotting. "What?" she asked him. "Why do you care? You don't even know me," she spat, letting hate seep into her voice. He doesn't seem to be dangerous now compared with last night.

The man just scoffed. His face remained emotionless and void as he stood up and slipped off his shirt.

Annabeth blushed, but recovered quickly. "What do you think you're doing, you perv—"

He threw the plain, white shirt at Annabeth, hitting her square in the face. "Put that on," he said indifferently, turning away, busying himself with the old, beaten-up stove at the other side of the room.

She felt more confused than ever. But that was before she was curious enough to take a peak under the covers. Annabeth's eyes widened, her cheeks burning. She quickly put the shirt on and stood up. It was big enough that it covered everything that needed to be covered. "You son-of-a—!" she yelled at the man, grabbing a rusty lamp from the bedside table and hurling it at him. Annabeth missed by an inch and the lamp shattered on the wall above the stove.

The man quickly whirled around. "What the _hell_ are you doing?" he asked her, his face switching from bemused to anything but amused.

Annabeth had already grabbed an old-fashioned alarm clock about the size of her face. "What did you do to me?!" She threw it at him without restrictions. She wanted to hurt him badly. She never felt this angry in her entire life, like her dignity was taken from her. In this case, it was.

The man caught the clock just before it hit his face. His reflexes were amazing that she paused in astonishment. But she quickly regained herself. "You should thank me for that!" the man yelled back, walking closer to her, who stood her ground.

Annabeth gave him a look that spelled 'unbelievable'. The next things she grabbed was a sneaker on the floor. "_Thank you_?" she asked, dumbfounded. "You want me to say _thank you_ for doing _this_ to me—?"

"Damn it, you were _soaked_," the man explained, clearly pissed off at what she was doing. She took another step back as he closed in on her. He was taller than she was. "You'd think I'd be interested in someone like _you_?" he asked her, his was as deadly as when he threatened her before.

She glared, staring into the man's sea-green eyes. She wasn't scared, but something about the way he looked at her made her shut up for a moment. _So that means that nothing..._ her thoughts trailed off in relief.

"Why did you bring me here?" she asked him as he pulled away, though he didn't take his eyes of hers.

The man remained silent, his stance rigid and unflinching. His expression was completely illegible. Annabeth then noticed that he was shirtless, wearing only a pair of faded, worn-out jeans. _His body's pretty nice_, she thought. A soft hue of pink tinted her cheeks and neck. But her gaze was still unwavering. _Damn it, Annabeth! Don't check him out just yet. He might kill you. _Annabeth quickly regained her composure.

"Why did you bring me here?" she pressed on, her need for answers getting the best of her. "What's your name?" she asked, crossing her arms in front of her defensively.

Again, there was no answer. He just continued gazing at her as if not hearing a thing. This made Annabeth quite aggravated. She hated talking to unresponsive people.

"That's it," she said resolutely with aggravation. Annabeth turned around and looked for her clothes, but there was no sign of it anywhere. She turned back to look at the man. "Where's my stuff?" she demanded, her eyes glinting with pent-up exasperation.

The man didn't give an answer again. He didn't even blink.

"I need to go," Annabeth said, placing her hands on her hips. She was anxious, but didn't know what else to do or say.

He sneered at her annoyed face. This time he replied. But it wasn't what Annabeth was expecting. "You're not going anywhere."

Annabeth raised an eyebrow. "What?" she said, amazed at his answer.

"Are you that slow or do I have to say it again?" the man shot back. He was surprisingly witty even when he looked this serious.

Annabeth was heated up. There was no way that this man was going to have a way with words towards her. If there was anybody in this room that was good at words, it was her. She wasn't scared anymore, no. She was angry.

"Don't you _dare _question my intelligence, mister! And why am I not allowed to leave?" she asked him inquiringly, hands still on hips. She had completely forgotten the fact that she was completely naked except for a loose shirt. Her blonde hair was loose and was untidily tumbling down her shoulders. She looked anything but threatening, but Annabeth didn't care. "C'mon, enlighten me." She could be really scary as what her friends say but now…

The man scoffed at her angry expression. He thought that he looked kind of cute when she's like that. "You're with the police," he said to her. It wasn't a question but an assumption.

Eyes widening with surprise, Annabeth looked at him thoughtfully. _How does he know that?_ "I can assure you, I'm not," she lied.

"I saw you leaving the precinct at the corner of 23rd and 4th last night," he said bluntly, his voice as piercing as his glare.

Annabeth's brows furrowed. "Wait, you were _following_ me?" she asked, outraged.

He snorted in reply. "What d'you think?" It was a rhetorical question.

She let out air in an attempt to relieve herself of her aggravated mood. It proved useless. "Tell me where my clothes are before I—"

Annabeth was cut short when a jab of pain shot from the side of her head. She was blinded for a moment before her knees buckled from the sensation. She then fell back onto the bed, her hand gently touching throbbing area. "What the—ow—" she gasped, barely able to talk.

The man turned away and fumbled with something inside the freezer. He came back after a few seconds, carrying a small, improvised ice bag. Annabeth notice that it was made from an old handkerchief.

She looked up at him with surprise. _Clever._ "Thank you," she said, reaching out to get the ice pack, but he pulled it away.

"Let me," he said as he knelt in front her. He was the one looking up to her now. The man gently applied the ice on her head just behind her right ear. It was where he had hit her the night before. His free hand was settled on the bed, just outside of hers.

Annabeth shifted, but decided it was best not to argue. Blood came rushing back to her cheeks again. She could barely feel the coldness of the pack. _Is this really him?_ she thought to herself as she got lost in his sea-green eyes once more. It felt odd when she felt that she was warming up to him all of a sudden. _He doesn't seem to be that dangerous at all_, she thought._ Okay, minus the fact that he knocked me out just to give the cops a slip_.

She cleared out her throat. "Hey, if you don't mind," she whispered to him, eyeing the slender arm working on the bump on her head.

"Hn," was his only reply.

"What's your name?" she asked him for the second time around. She then focused her eyes back on his.

The man's eyes narrowed vaguely, but he still continued holding the icepack against her head. It was a quite a personal question, Annabeth noted, but he didn't seem to mind.

"They call me Hero."

* * *

**A/N: So how was it! How was it? Posting two chapters at one day is sure tiring. I could see a cliffhanger at the end! Haha. Sorry about that. And oh, by the way, for the people who reviewed and followed and favourited this story, I give you a thumbs up! Sorry for the grammatical errors and spelling errors I haven't re-read it so, yeah, I'm really sorry. And yeah don't forget to review, I would like to hear from you!**

**Dicaimer: I don't OWN the Percy Jackson and the Olympians series. They rightfully belong to Uncle Rick.**

**Annnnnnnd, that's a wrap! Peace out Demis.**


	5. Decisions and Lies

**A/N: Soooooo, sorry for the delay. I was being lazy and just doing nothing staring at the ceiling all day. Anyhow, This is it. The fourth chapter of Fated. Oh and I changed some details on the previous chapter so if you missed that out, then, by all means, go ahead. Ijust want to thank for pointing out a very important fact. Sooooo, on with the story.**

* * *

It was another typical day at work and Reyna Avila Ramirez-Arellano was looking more frustrated than she usually did. A perpetual frown was plastered on her face and her hair was sticking out in odd places. Annabeth could perfectly imagine that she hadn't taken a bath nor had any sleep for days. The apparently darker circles around her eyes only added to her conviction.

But she didn't mind this at all. Her head was swimming in a blur of scenes and thoughts that flashed through her mind every minute or so. She could compare it to the bad hangovers she had during her college years.

"Chase," Reyna called to her, her voice sounding like it was on the brink of insanity. She slammed a hand onto her desk. "Are you even listening to what I'm saying?" she asked her.

Annabeth gave a small 'what'. "I'm sorry, Miss Arellano," she apologized, giving a low bow. "Please continue."

The older woman raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow at the younger one. She straightened up and crossed her arms across her chest. "Annabeth," she began.

"Yes, ma'am," Annabeth looked up to face the very tired though very determined Editor-in-Chief.

"I believe you've been writing for the Hermes' Bulletin for the past four years," Reyna said, her voice changing in tone. "I know you that well to tell that you're not yourself today," she added.

Annabeth felt a little guilty. No, she felt _completely_ guilty. She forced the most honest smile she could make. "No, really," she tried convincing Reyna — and herself. "I'm just short a couple hours of sleep, that's all," Annabeth lied.

Reyna didn't seem to buy it. But she waved it away, pressing on more important matters. "Give me your update on the mugger," she said, sitting back on her office chair and lacing her fingers together on the cluttered, hardwood desk.

_I knew she'd ask for this_, Annabeth thought. _Good thing Jason had information to spare_. She pulled out her notebook and opened it to a bookmarked page. "I paid a visit to Officer Valdez and Detective Grace last night at the station," she started, looking at Reyna for any response.

She only nodded.

_I feel like I'm a backstabber_, Annabeth thought for a while, last night's incident flashing through her mind like photographs. She wanted to slap herself. _Backstabbing? He's a criminal, darn you, Annabeth. He knocked you out for God's sake_—

_But he_—

Clearing out her throat, she began reading aloud her findings and the detective's collective date from her notes. She noticed Reyna's frown and eyes were growing more intense with every word she said.

"That's everything," Annabeth said after she was done. "All information was courtesy of Officer Valdez and Detective Grace, like I said."

Reyna let out a sigh and gazed out the window. "That's all you've got?" she asked Annabeth, rearranging a pile of need-to-be-signed papers on her desk.

Annabeth stared at her superior with disbelief. But she fought hard not to show it. "Yes, ma'am, that's everything." She pocketed her notebook.

Her boss seemed to have been considering it for a moment. "Fine," she said to Annabeth as if she didn't have any other choice. "This newspaper needs to release an article about that asshole and what's he's up to in two days. But you need to find something deeper, Chase, not just a couple of assumptions."

Annabeth felt disappointed, yet relieved at the same time. _Why do you feel relieved? You're about to lose the EIC spot as we speak,_ she scolded herself. "Yes, ma'am," she said, her resolute tone of voice the complete opposite of how the abrupt confusion building up inside her. "I'll work on to it. I won't disappoint you next time."

Reyna gave a nod. It secretly amazed Annabeth how her boss reminded her of how her mother made her feel — a naïve, young schoolgirl. "Dismissed," she said.

"Thank you," Annabeth said, exiting the room, leaving Reyna with her thoughts.

_You've grown a lot from when I first met you, Annabeth. But there's something about you seems different…_

* * *

"I tried calling you last night, but I think your cell phone was turned off," Luke Castellan was leaning coolly against Annabeth's desk, acting smooth unflappable.

_Actually, it wasn't_, Annabeth replied mentally. _The mugger got to me when I was about to go home. Obviously, I was out of luck because the taxi I hired broke down and my phone ran out of charge_, she added, as though she herself refused to believe it.

A vein was throbbing on Annabeth's forehead as Luke jabbered away rapidly about his years of experience in journalism. She didn't have time for this, not now. She didn't need this stuck-up wannabe taking up her precious alone-time while everything in her life was just start getting too complicated for a woman to handle.

Her computer made a small 'pop' sound, indicating that someone had opened an Instant Messenger window in her screen. Her spirits flew when she recognized the username to be Piper's. She barely noticed Luke talking away about how he got a promotion when he was only six months on the job and typed a quick reply. She hit the 'enter' key with unnecessary force.

**DaughterOfAphrodite**: I c that loser's hitting on u again.

**DaughterOfAthena**: Oh gods, please save me.

"...So, you see, it was long when I became a regular columnist on the Opinions page of Hermes' Bulletin. The editor was only looking for sheer ingenuity with a superb writing style such as myself..."

**DaughterOfAphrodite**: Sorry, can't. I'm in 'detention' ryt now coz I let Travis Stoll leave d newspaper. EIC's kinda pissed. She asked me 2 make a stupid article about how owning an iguana can make a person live longer.

Annabeth chuckled softly. Luke seemed to have mistaken that she was amused with whatever he was yapping about. She rolled her eyes nonchalantly and wrote her reply.

**DaughterOfAthena**: LOL. I can't shake him off, damn it. I'm thinking about shoving my pencil up his nose.

Piper replied fast.

**DaughterOfAphrodite**: LMFAO. Anyway, have u got any good stuff about d mugger?

Surprised, Annabeth took longer than usual to send out a reply. The sudden change of topic caught her off guard. Even Piper's interested on this guy, she thought, thinking about the man with green eyes, the messy, black hair trimmed just right, the way he—

"Hey, Annabeth," Luke broke her rather sensual thoughts. For the first time, she was grateful that he did. She didn't like where they were headed nor did she like the unknown reason as to why she thought of them constantly. It was distracting. "Are you listening to me?" he asked, concerned.

Annabeth turned to look up at Luke. Her face was blank for a few moments before she opened her mouth to speak. "Uhm," she said, unsure of what to say. "It's n-nothing, Luke. I just need sleep. I've been on coffee for since last night." Annabeth wondered how many lies she had to tell to convince everyone that she wasn't a bit bothered.

She quickly returned to her computer screen, her fingers hitting the keyboard at top speed.

**DaughterOfAthena**: Sorry, Pipes. GTG. Something just came up. See you later.

Annabeth logged off her account and her computer station. She hurriedly grabbed her purse along with whatever was left in it and walked towards the exit with a perplexed Luke trailing after her. _I can't do this,_ Annabeth thought resolutely. _I need time to think and clear-up my mind of everything that isn't supposed to be there_.

* * *

Annabeth tried to suppress a laugh. Her hand flew up to her lips to cover the smile that broke through it. "Hero?" she echoed, through a giggle. "That's a weird name for a guy."

He dropped his hand holding the icepack and looked at Annabeth with his sea-green, narrowed eyes. "I didn't ask for your opinion," she shot back indifferently, placing the bag of ice on her lap. It stung her bare skin like red-hot metal.

"Hey, ow!" Annabeth squealed, seizing the makeshift bag and replacing it to her head. Her scalp wasn't affected by the cold that much since her golden hair was thick enough. "Ice can burn too, you know," she said to him, but Hero wasn't paying too much attention.

She watched him as he turned around and sat, cross-legged on the floor, just a few feet away from her. He began fumbling the contents of a very lady-like leather bag on a coffee table which looked like it was on its last legs. It swiftly hit Annabeth that this was not a guy to be trusted. Suddenly, her true priority pushed her towards what she needed to do and know.

_I've got you now_, Annabeth thought as she remembered what Reyna had told her._ You're not gonna get away this time. You'll pay for taking all of what that poor mother had..._

Annabeth was silent for a few seconds, making a line-up of questions that didn't give away her true intentions easily. When she was satisfied, she crossed her legs and placed the icepack down on the bed. She came up with a curious, innocent face (Which was hard) — much like the one she had when she was in middle school. Annabeth noticed that Hero was still busy stripping the wallet of everything that was inside it.

"So," she started. "How long have you been doing this?" she asked him, acting like she came up with the question out-of-the-blue. _Answer me honestly, damn it, so I can move on to the next one._

A few moments passed before Hero spoke. Annabeth confirmed that he was in a different time zone, maybe in a different world. He threw the empty wallet into a large garbage sack. The leather bag followed. Annabeth winced when she noticed that it was Armani. "When it became necessary," Hero said off handedly.

Annabeth raised an eyebrow. _He's a weird guy. Necessary?_ "And when was that?" she pressed on, attempting to sound as casual as possible.

His response was quicker than the first one. "Why do you need to know." It was a more of a statement than a question.

Flinching a little, Annabeth decided to let it go. Even if this guy showed his 'warm' side to her, he was still a criminal. He was supposed to be taken behind bars, not to be meddled with.

"No reason," she said, shrugging. _This is going to be harder than I thought_. "I was just curious." Annabeth let a few moments pass. _This is guy isn't gonna budge as planned._ It dawned onto her that he never answered one of her first questions. "Why'd you bring me here?" she asked him, looking up from the dull-gray floor.

He answered quicker than Annabeth had predicted. His voice had the same venom that dark, rainy night when he had threatened her. "You're with the police." His answer was the same as before, indicating that no further elaboration was needed.

_Damn, he is following me._ "I told you, I'm not working for the police. I'm with the press—"

She paused at mid-sentence. _Oops. I think I might've said too much_, Annabeth thought, slightly horrified.

Hero scoffed, cutting off Annabeth's explanation. He was onto another purse. A small, red handbag this time.

_I guess that takes the toll up to 17 victims including myself,_ Annabeth thought. "How old are you?" she asked him again, eyeing him as he tipped the contents of the bag onto the table. There was a wallet, a compact, and a lipstick. He immediately grabbed the wallet.

His eyes were narrowed again, though he never spoke a word, Annabeth grew impatient, but she wasn't about to give up yet, not when her one-way ticket to promotion was standing in front of her. _Say something to make him open up to you._ "I'm 25 years old, but most of the time people don't believe me—"

A pair of jeans came flying out of nowhere and hit Annabeth in the face. She made a muffled sound of alarm but recognized it to be hers when it fell on her lap. Her leather jacket came next. _What the_— It took her a couple more seconds for her to figure it out.

_He's letting me go?_ thought Annabeth as her eyes fell on her clothes. She noticed that they were freshly laundered. She opened her mouth, but quickly closed it again, undecided. Instead, she muttered, "Th-thank you."_ What is this guy playing at?_

Hero stood and threw the last purse inside the sack along with the others. He then walked to where Annabeth was sitting and slipped his hands inside his pockets. The woman tilted her head up to get a better look at his face. Annabeth's cheeks warmed up considerably.

_His eyes look nice..._ she thought. _They look different from the ones I saw last night—_

"Your bag is in the pocket of your coat," he instructed her as though giving a command. His voice was droning. "I didn't take anything," he assured her, his face as blank as a wall. "And I threw in something else there."

Annabeth felt around the inside of her jacket and pulled out her purse. Hastily, she unzipped it and looked for anything foreign. Her jaws dropped when she found out what Hero meant by 'something.' It wrapped loosely around her fingertip.

Air escaped through her lips. She was at a loss for words. "Oh, my gods..." was all she could come up with. _Where did he get_— Annabeth gazed at Hero with amazement. _Get a hold of yourself. Don't forget your priority_. She quickly shifted her expression to confusion. "What's this for?"

"For the trouble."

Annabeth knotted her eyebrows, looking at the beautiful, white gold, diamond ring in her hand. She didn't need to be an expert on rocks to tell that the thing was real and besides her mom has tons of these._ I think I think know what's coming up next. No, no, no_— "What trouble?" she asked, pretending to be naïve.

Unexpectedly, Prince knelt down in front of her, in one knee. He then rested both his closed fist on either side of Annabeth, who, for some unknown reason, couldn't react. It was like she was trying to catch her breath. The hand holding the ring swayed a little.

He stared into her eyes. "I need to ask you a favor," he said, his voice unnaturally appealing that Annabeth couldn't bear to say no.

_What are you doing?! You're actually gonna listen to this guy?!_ Annabeth mentally yelled at herself. Her thoughts weren't in their usual logical array and she didn't know why. All she could think were his striking, green eyes and the way his messy, black hair fell onto it all the right places—"What kind of favor?" asked Annabeth as she dropped the piece of fine jewelry back into her bag. _My promotion..._ She looked down on to the clothes on her lap. Annabeth felt doubtful.

"I need you to promise me that you won't tell anyone about this," Hero said. His tone was rough, as though he had just told her classified information.

Annabeth's heart was hitting her chest hard. Her thoughts knotted themselves together went cloudy. She didn't know if it was the blow on her head or her muddled judgment that made her think of things she's even supposed to considering, not even in her wildest dreams.

_Am I supposed to just let him slip away? What about my—What the hell am I thinking? The police are out looking for him. He's a criminal, for God's sake—! He's the reason why that woman's son is dead—He doesn't to be at all that dangerous anymore—no, that's what he wants me to think, damn it! I know his face well enough to give them every detail. The moment I step out of this room, I can tell the police. They're just a phone call away—_

Hero placed his thumb lightly on Annabeth's chin. He tilted her head up a bit so that her gray eyes met his. "Please," he said. But he wasn't begging. He wasn't even close. "I need you to understand that this kind of life is hard—"

Annabeth moved her head away from his touch and made a derisive sound. "Do you think of that every time you point a knife at someone?" she shot back, tears filling her eyes not because of fear, but of rage. She thought of that woman and her son again. "How can you be so selfish—?"

"Please." Hero placed both his hands on her shoulders. The gesture wasn't forceful, but it somehow comforted the cross woman. "I don't know why I'm doing this, but I need you to understand that this is how I get by," he said, gazing into her eyes. He then added, softly, "I don't have a future, not even a past." He lowered his head a little.

Blinking back tears, Annabeth furrowed her brows. Hero was getting talkative, giving away the panic he was feeling. No past...? "W-what do you mean by that?" she asked him. The heat of his body was radiating onto hers. _He's warm..._

Hero looked up again. He withdrew his grip on her and pressed his palms on her cheeks. His hands were calloused, but unexpectedly comfortable. "That doesn't matter," he said. His face was just an inch away from hers. "Just promise me that you won't tell anyone."

_Oh gods._ Annabeth looked at him again. It was a fatal mistake. _What's happening to me? This isn't right at all_—

But, in the end, only one thought floated to the surface of her mind. "I promise," she finally let out. _I don't believe this_—

For the first time, a spark of relief flashed through Hero's eyes. But it instantly became cold and unemotional again. He came closer, making Annabeth's eyes widen. She was taken aback by his temperamental gesture.

He placed a quick, light kiss on her forehead. "Thank you," he said.

* * *

**A/N: SO how was it? Is it okay? Sorry if it sucks but nah, that's all I could come up with. Sorry for all the grammar and spelling errors. Also if there was an inconsistency in my writing, please let me know. Reviews are highly appreciated. Also, special thanks to Rosekie.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Percy Jackson and the Olympians, they rightfully belong to Uncle Rick.**

**Aaaaaaaaaand, that's a wrap. Peace out Demis!**


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